No Pain, No Gain
by HermioneNCompany
Summary: HermioneLucius. Takes place in Hermione's 7th year, when she is roughly taken to Azkaban under false charges of Murder. Here she meets Lucius Malfoy in a cell no bigger than her own. What could they possibly say to each other... besides I hate you?
1. Murder

**Chapter One**

**Murder**

**(A/N::: This is my first Lucius/Hermione pairing, and I'm not entirely sure how it is going to work out. I would like to say that I will accept constructive criticism but NOT flames. If you don't like it, quit reading it. This couple is just as stubborn if not more so than Snape/Hermione Pairings. I will attempt to fiddle around with my other story that i started forever ago but never got around to, but for now this is my primary concern. Any thoughts or plot ideas are welcome because this story is not completely planned out by ANY means. Uhmm Oh, ratings - language/sexual situations, that sort of thing will probably be in later chapters, you have been warned!... Okay on with the story, reviews are very much wanted!!)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, wish it was though...**

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Long black robes billowed behind him as he made his way towards a stuttering Neville Longbottom, whom had just managed to spill his third vat of precious dragon scales.

"P- P- Professor Snape, I-I-I didn't mean to do… I-I-I…" Neville sputtered.

"What we do and what we mean to do are two completely different things Longbottom, and as you have made exceedingly clear, I understand this difference more than you ever will. I believe that will be thirty points from Gryffindor, and see to it that you pick up this mess _without magic_ before I really give you something to stutter about."

With a flick of his wand, he cleared the contents of Neville's cauldron and turned swiftly around to return to his cluttered desk at the front of the room. He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose when he heard the all too familiar, grating voice of a certain Gryffindor head girl. He knew what she was to say before she had taken a breath.

"Professor, excuse me, but what exactly is the purpose of picking up all of those scales by hand? There must be a thousand strewn about!" She said indignantly, standing up from her seat.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek and I implore you not to question my teaching methods again," He said lazily, while scratching his quill on a sheaf of parchment that lay at rest in front of him, "and sit down, Miss Granger."

Cheeks flushed, Hermione momentarily debated on whether or not to retaliate, decided against it, and resumed her seat with an angry huff.

"There will be none of your girlish huffing in my class Miss Granger, five more points from Gryffindor," Snape said, neither smiling mockingly nor looking up from his parchment.

"But I didn't even do any…" she began angrily.

"Detention tonight at 8 'o' clock sharp for your unnecessary retaliation towards an authority figure," he looked up finally, folding the parchment neatly with his wand, placing it within a plain white envelope and stamping the Hogwarts coat of arms in green wax on its back. "And by sheer coincidence, I have already prepared a detention slip for you, so come up and get it. Quickly now," he sneered at her obvious anger.

She refused to give him any more ammunition against her and said nothing as she moved quickly down the stone aisle to his desk. She resisted the urge to smile sarcastically at him as she snatched the envelope from between his long fingers. _'One more year__ Hermione'_she told herself as she caught the angry grimaces on Harry and Ron's faces indicating how unfair they thought Snape was being. She lifted the ends of her lips into what she hoped appeared to be a reassuring smile and resumed her seat once again.

Luckily, she had not a moment to seethe when Snape dismissed his 7th years to their next classes, calling out their assignment of a twelve inch essay on the effects of wormroot in splinching potions. The unreasonable standards and expectations of Snape's class was almost unbearable and she wondered how she was going to make it through the rest of her 7th and final year at Hogwarts without receiving a detention every time she was in the dungeons. The man was brilliant, that was not to be questioned, but his wicked demeanor could make even Peeves cringe. As Hermione walked towards her Ancient Runes classroom, she pondered all the terrible things she would be made to do that evening in detention. Unpleasant things awaited her in the dungeon, that was certain, but whether those things were more horrible than the person issuing their commands was very doubtful indeed.

The rest of the day passed by in a haze and before she knew it, her final class, arithmacy, was called to an end and her feet were taking her in the direction of the Head dormitories. She arrived at a portrait of a beautiful centaur that was pacing next to a small pond that continued off the canvas.

"Password?"

"Cornish Pixies," Hermione muttered quickly.

The centaur bowed low, and allowed her access by swinging the portrait forward, revealing a large doorway in which Hermione entered. Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy had managed to procure the title of head boy that year and Hermione was suffering for it.

"So mudblood, I've been thinking that maybe you should just stay in your room and I'll keep the main room as well as my own. Can't have you tainting the dormitory more than you already have," Draco sneered up at her from the book he was reading on a large cream colored couch in the center of the room.

"I don't think so Malfoy, why don't you just get the hell out instead and I'll keep all of the rooms to myself?" She did not wait for a reply, but instead walked to the bathroom and closed the door before he could retaliate.

The bathroom was one of the largest if not the largest bathrooms in the entire school. She had a vague suspicion that Dumbledore managed to retain the largest. It was done up in silver and white, with a high fifteen foot ceiling where a small glass chandelier hung. The candles were already lit, as they always were, but they never seemed to melt away. Surely the house elves that lit them had something to do with that as well.

Hermione walked towards the center of the room where a bathtub _almost_ the size of the prefects' bathtub lay. It was deep set, at least four feet deep, and there were at least ten water spouts all around the outside. Hermione knew which one to turn for the precise amount of water and bubbles that she wanted. After she turned it on, she made sure that both doors were locked and she stripped herself of all her clothing. By the time she was done with those simple tasks, the bath was already magically filled and she lowered herself into it slowly. She shortly began to drift off to sleep within the relaxing bubbles.

She had only been in the tub for around ten minutes when she was startled awake by a sharp knocking on the left entrance to the bathroom.

"Open up Granger, I need to take a piss!" Malfoy's dulcet tones rang out between loud blows to the door.

"As polite as that offer was Malfoy, I think you'll have to use the prefects' bathroom down the hall," Hermione sang out.

"I'm going to use your face in a minute!" Malfoy yelled out, followed by a very stiff silence.

After a few moments of ringing silence Hermione asked, "Did you just threaten to urinate on me?"

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Hermione found that 8 'o' clock came far too quickly for her liking, however, she managed to finish all her homework due for the next week before the alarm she set on her wand went off at precisely 7:45. Hermione Granger was never late; in fact, she was always early with at least five minutes to spare. So, with a flourish of her wand, she packed up all of her books and stowed them carefully in her room, double checked that the locking charm on her door was secure, and carried a small bag with a few quills, ink bottles, and parchment; ready for whatever Snape would have in store for her this evening.

When she arrived at his door, she was five minutes early, like planned. She knocked and waited for his response to come. After only a moment she heard Snape's deep voice call out, "Enter". She opened the door, entered, and closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. He wasted no time.

"I suppose you will be wondering what you will be doing for me for detention this evening Miss Granger. Let's see, I suppose my store room could be in need of some reorganization. Or maybe some good old fashioned scrubbing is in order for the entire cauldron stock. No? Do none of these tasks sound appealing to you Miss Granger?" He asked her with a sneer.

"Professor, I do not believe I really have anywhere else to be at the moment so if you insist on asking me such mundane questions such as these then by all means continue. However, according the ordinance thirteen, section two in the school handbook that currently resides in Filch's office, you are only allowed to keep my in detention until 11 pm on any given school night. So by all means, please continue your tirade."

"You are an insufferable know-it-.." Snape was cut off by a large explosion coming from somewhere outside of the classroom.

He found his way to his dungeon door, followed closely by Hermione, and opened it to find half of the stairway nearest, destroyed. Dust filled the air and rocks and debris were scattered everywhere around them in every direction. "What happened?" Hermione shrieked.

"Of that, I am unaware, but I can assure you miss granger, I will find out. Come inside and stay put while I go to Headmistress Mcgonagall. Do not move," Snape spoke clearly. He then turned and swept from the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Hermione could hear his unpleasant remarks as he struggled to climb over the debris to get up the stairs and out of the dungeon. When she could hear no more, she began to feel worried about being alone, when it was not clear as to why there was any kind of explosion anywhere in Hogwarts, let alone so close to her. Her mind drifted quickly of Death Eaters and Voldemort, and she pulled out her wand. All of the sudden she heard voices in the distance, and she walked over towards the door. She peered outside the classroom and saw that all the dust had settled and at the top of what was once the stairs leading to Snape's dungeon, was Colin Creevey.

"Hermione, thank Merlin it's you. I was walking down the dungeons, talking to Nearly Headless Nick about his Death day party he was to have this year, when I heard an explosion. I wasn't sure what was going on and…" He sputtered nervously.

"It's going to fine Colin, I'm not sure what is going on but Snape went to find Mcgonagall so they'll be back soon. Keep your wand out," Hermione peered around, wondering if it was too quiet. "Something or someone must have made that explosion so it will be best if we get back inside the classroom. Try to climb over some of these rocks and we'll stay in here until Snape and Mcgonagall return."

Colin was carrying his camera as always and struggled to begin climbing over the rubble, afraid of harming it. Hermione nervously watched him when suddenly she heard more voices, farther up some set of stairs and out of the range of her vision.

"Who's there? Professors?" Colin asked uncertainly. Silence.

"Expelliarmus! Petrificus totallus!"

In a haze of red and blue light, Colin lay frozen on the ground, his wand strewn some four feet away. Colin's camera fell beside him, and went off once of its own accord. Hermione could only begin to register what happened when she heard it again. "Petrificus totallus!"

She felt limbs snap together and her body turned rigid. She could still think and feel, but she could not move or speak. Her body plummeted against her will towards the cobblestone floor, face first. Her eyes welled up in pain as her nose crashed into the stone floor, but she could not blink away her tears, causing even more of a vision restriction than she already had to endure, facing straight down. She heard the unsteady climbing of at least two people down the rocky staircase towards her frozen body. It could be no one but Death Eaters, she knew, that picked her up roughly, securing her vision by carrying her face away from them and scrambled back up the wreckage towards Colin's unmoving form. She felt her stiff fingers being pried apart by forceful hands, and her wand left her, as well as her only hope. She was dropped unceremoniously on the ground next to Colin.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? One blood traitor, and a filthy little mudblood," mocked the rough voice of a man she did not recognize.

"Wittle baby is so fwightened!" A high pitched cackle ensued, and she knew it to be only one person, Bellatrix Lestrange. "Let's see here, what should I do with you two? Oh, I know!" She laughed again and Hermione wanted to cringe. It all happened quickly then. A flash of green light came and Hermione could see only out of the corner of her eye that it struck Colin square in the back. His body remained stationary, and looked almost exactly the same, but Hermione knew his life was just cruelly taken from him in a blink of an eye. Hermione's tears welled up, but she could not cry.

"Finite Incantatum!" Hermione could suddenly feel her limbs tingle, and she could move them for only a split second until…

"Incarcerous!" Ropes flew from a wand somewhere behind her and bound her struggling form tightly so that she could not move. She squeaked a half-squeak before…

"Silencio!" Her voice left her, and she began to weep silently as Bellatrix and the unknown man guffawed behind her.

Abruptly, the laughter stopped and she heard the echo of footsteps in the distance and her aggressor's rapid movement away from her. She heard her wand clatter to the ground in front of her, and she couldn't even bother to think about why they left her wand instead of taking it. She couldn't begin to wonder who could have possibly been her second attacker. She could think only of Colin's lifeless body that lay mere inches from her. Tears poured freely from her eyes, though she continued to remain silent and immobile, even after Professor Mcgonagall lifted the curses that bound her. She cried, and wept, and sobbed for Colin, and Dumbledore, and for everyone this war had tainted and killed until her body could not move even if she had wanted it to.

She did not remember making it to the Headmistresses office, nor that Harry and Ron had run up to her and shook her and told her all the things they thought she wanted to hear, nor even Mcgonagall talking through floo to some unnamed ministry official. The only thing she did remember was…

"Severus, I'm afraid she is being sent to Azkaban prison, for the murder of Mister Colin Creevey."

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Review!! Tell me what you think!! Announcement: This WILL be a Lucius/Hermione fic, just starts out a little slow in the first chapter:)

THANKS FOR READING!!


	2. Welcome to Azkaban

**Chapter Two**

**Welcome to Azkaban**

**(A/N ---**** Thanks go out to ****latinachikita**** for my first review on this story!**** Also, ma****ny thanks go out to heidi191976**** for reviewing as well! I'd just like to repeat, any plot suggestions are welcome as I'm writing this story as I go and I'm more than willing to try to please all my readers!!! I know this is a very unorthodox pairing so bare with me because they're very stubborn!! Thanks again for reading!!)**

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Merely two hours later found a still-soundly-sleeping Hermione in one of the most feared and dreaded place in the entire wizarding world; Azkaban prison. She was thrown roughly into a small cell, next to a long row of many other cells, all of which were occupied by criminals in various states of disarray. The bars of her cell were closed and she groggily awoke to the sound of her cell door being locked and the drifting sound of jingling keys which were being carried away by a large guard.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, unsure of where she was for a moment, and then the earlier day's events came crashing unceremoniously back into her memory like a train wreck. Her eyes were puffy and swollen from crying and her nose felt large and inflamed from landing on it twice. Her head hurt and her knees were scraped up from being thrown so roughly into her new cage. She immediately knew where she was, though the absence of dementors was very noticeable. However, although they were gone, the feeling of sadness and despair still hung in the air, probably due to the fact that they stayed in this prison for so many years. A few short months could not rid the air of their presence.

Opening her eyes the best she could, she looked around at her surroundings. Her cell was no more than six by six with a small cot in the corner that contained no pillow and a single stained sheet. A fetid toilet lay attached to the wall right next to it. Hay was scattered on the hard cement ground, as well as rat droppings, rocks, and other unidentifiable small objects; other than that, her room lay barren.

Peering through her puffy eyes some more, she looked towards her left to see one of her cellmates. A scruffy looking man lay on his bed, propped up on one elbow, reading what appeared to be the Daily Prophet. His cell appeared exactly the same as her own, except that his prison slipper shoes lay on the ground under his bed with stacks upon stacks of Daily Prophets. He was dressed in dirty prison garb and too-small black socks. Newspaper clippings littered the ground and thousands of them lay attached to the farthest wall. Hermione continued to study him until he felt her stare upon him and lowered his newspaper to look at her.

His eyes were blank and dull, and seemed to hold no recognition of her presence for several long moments. He shifted slightly before speaking.

"Dawson used to be in that cell. 'E died just there," the scruffy man pointed to a far corner. Hermione shuffled a little farther away, looking rather disgusted.

"W-who are you?" Hermione managed to squeak out, wondering what he had done to deserve a cell in here.

"Browning," He sighed, " 'prised I 'membered that, been in here so long, ya see," he drawled out, showing her the few teeth he had. "Anyways, I'm goin' to bed, nothin' else to do in this place but shit and sleep." With that, he folded his newspaper and placed it under his bed with all the others, rolled over, and didn't move again. Hermione paused momentarily, and turned to the cell on her right to address her other cellmate, but he had his back to her on his cot, sheet covered completely over his head. He did not appear to be awake.

There was one very small window in each of their cells, all the way to the ceiling and barred, so that there was no way for her to see out unless she moved her cot, and even that appeared to be bolted down. The window did not offer her any solace, however, as the only thing she could see was dark storm clouds brewing overhead. The sound of jingling keys brought her out of her silent reverie, and she turned sharply around to see what the commotion was.

Two guards were coming from an unknown doorway down the hall, followed by three of the people she wanted to see the most.

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"Harry, Ron, Remus!" Hermione shouted, jumping to her feet and grasping the bars that kept her captive. "Thank Merlin you're all here! What is going on?"

"Hermione!" They all screamed in unison. Ron and Harry tried the best they could to hug her through the bars and then backed up looking concerned when tears welled up in her eyes. "Sorry Hermione, we didn't mean to upset you," Ron looked sheepish.

"It's okay you two, I just don't know what's going on! I don't know why I'm in here. Please tell me you have information for me, tell me you're getting me out of this awful place," Hermione sputtered through sobs. This time it was Lupin who spoke up.

" Hermione, there is a lot to explain, firstly let me tell you a bit about the place you're in, because it is not how it has always been. After the mass breakout of many of the high security prisoners last year, and the desertion of the Dementors, Azkaban prison's forty-seven floors are now being controlled by many ministry officials under very highly controlled magical wards. Prisoners with sentences for misdemeanors were located in the lower levels of Azkaban, and as the severity of their crimes increases, so do their room numbers. The top floors are reserved for known Death Eaters, Voldemort supporters who had committed heinous crimes in public or the privacy of their homes, and other criminals that would be classified as being equal to such. Single murderers or other ghastly wrongdoers are located just below this, and so on and so forth. Hermione, you have been charged with the murder of Colin Creevey; you are on the 41st floor," Lupin finished, letting her take some of it in before continuing. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out, so he carried on.

"Hermione, there was an attack at Hogwarts, and from the look on your face, I understand that you have hardly any recollection of it. Do not be alarmed, your memory has not been erased, you have merely repressed the memories to the back of your mind because they are so very unpleasant. As far as Professors Snape and Mcgonagall and I are aware, there was an explosion outside of Severus' office, and when he went to find the Headmistress, late Mr. Colin Creevey and you were assaulted by two Death Eaters, one of which Severus recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange, and one that he is almost positive was Antonin Dolohov. The two retreated after using your wand to hex and kill Colin, and using their wand to hex yourself, so it appeared that you attacked Colin," Lupin sighed.

"But that's ridiculous; everyone knows I would never do that, surely Professor McGonagall or Snape would testify for me! They saw what happened!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hermione, you know it isn't that easy. Snape couldn't testify for you because of you-know-who running around, and not only that but the ministry found hard evidence that it was you and no one else." Lupin said sadly.

"You mean they used Priori Incantatum on my wand and saw that it was me?"

"Well yes, but the real ministry knows that this spell can be very deceptive. They also found a picture in Colin's camera that showed you holding your wand and yelling a curse that resulted in a green light issuing from it. The only spell that results in a green light is the killing curse, Avada Kavadra."

"But that's impossible! You know I didn't do it, right?" Hermione exclaimed. "And what do you mean by the real ministry?"

"Of course I know you didn't do it. It takes a powerful witch or wizard to charm a magical device like Colin's camera without leaving any traces or wrongdoing. By the 'real ministry', I mean the people that are actually trying to be in charge, but are being overrun by corrupt followers of Voldemort that have really taken over the ministry behind Scrimgeours back. He tried to maintain the fact that he is an authority figure, but the public is seeing that things are getting out of control. It isn't the real ministry that wants you here Hermione, it's Voldemort and his followers. Azkaban is filling up with people that are innocent of their crimes because all hell is breaking loose across the wizarding world, and there is nothing that can stop it but the demise of Voldemort." At these words, Harry's face hardened and his normally warm eyes turn to bricks of ice, but he remained silent.

"We're going to get you out of here Hermione, we promise! Dad told me that your hearing is in three months time, but that's only a start. He said if he talks to the right people, he can probably get it down to one or two," Ron said, shivering. The dementor's aura was getting to him already.

"Three months? That seems like an awfully long time. I don't know if I'm going to make it. Are you sure there's nothing else you can do? I mean I know you all have a lot on your plates right now, what with the Order and everything, but I've never been in a place like this…" She trailed off.

"We're doing everything we can. We brought you some things, but being a semi-high security prisoner, you aren't allowed the things that some of the lower floors are allowed. We brought you the Daily Prophet, The Quibbler courtesy Luna, a pair of Wool socks from Molly, Hogwarts a History," Lupin was cut off by Ron and Harry.

"That ones from us!"

"Ahem, and a few other books we thought you might want to occupy yourself with. They were all Okayed by the warden. He also wanted me to give you your… uniform. Anyways, we have to go, we have a time limit being here and it looks like they're flagging us in. Try to do well Hermione and we will visit you as often as possible."

Ron, Harry, and Lupin all took turns hugging her through the bars and she struggled not to cry as she was yelling out her goodbyes as they walked down the hallway. She continued to yell goodbye even after the door was shut, then, dropping all of her new belongings onto the cot, she slumped into a corner on the far wall and began to weep whole heartedly. Mere moments into her weeping session, she jumped when she realized that this was where "Dawson" had just recently died and she scooted farther away, grabbing the bars that divided the prisoner to her right and herself. She was startled out of crying again when she heard the voice of the prisoner she had no yet spoken to sound out very near to her.

"My my Miss Granger, we meet again," he drawled out, uncovering himself slowly from his sheets and sitting on the edge of his cot, facing her. His long blonde hair remained impeccable, and instead of a prison uniform, he retained his usual black ensemble and she even noticed his serpent cane leaning against the wall next to his bed. He smoothed his already slicked hair back, lifting his nose into the air and looking down on her.

"Lucius Malfoy, master Death Eater and second in command, fancy meeting you here. Why aren't you on the top floor with the rest of your friends?" Hermione called out, trying to sound more angry than alarmed. "Couldn't your money get you out of this one, you evil little ferret?"

"How dare you insult me you slippery little Mudblood, you should have been dead by Dolohov's hands twice now; he failed once in the Ministry, and again today. You won't be so lucky next time. Perhaps you should pray that you stay in this place instead of wish for the day they set you free," he sneered.

"While I would love to hear more of your opinions of me Lucius, you have not answered my questions at all. Perhaps you are the slippery one."

"I do not answer to Mudbloods," He said simply.

"You just did."

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**A/N ---Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think so far, it was really hard to write and get it to the place it is now, I know they just met but beleive me, it was hard to even think of an excuse as to why they would come in contact! haha, anyways, Thanks again to the people that reviewed, and also for the people that have added this to their alert list. And of course, to the people who just read this, it means so much to me that you take the time! Let me know what you think! THANKS!)**


	3. Give me back my Cane!

**Chapter Three**

**Give me back my Cane!**

**(A/N ---****a**** HU****GE thanks go out to Heidi191976, ****starr****cudee****, ginnyginny, latinachikita, elh4587, and schwertlilie81**** for reviewing! As far as the question that was asked about how the Deatheaters even got into Hogwarts, to be honest I did think about putting it in the 2****nd**** chapter but I got sidetracked and I forgot, I'll be sure to mention it at some point in this chapter, so thanks for asking! Anyways, without further ado… oh wait, **I need a beta,** does anyone want to help me with my horrible grammar and sentence structure? LET ME KNOW! Okay, now ON WITH THE STORY! **

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Lucius snorted unpleasantly at the mudblood in question as she turned her gaze from him and went over to her cot to sift through her new belongings. He saw her pick up her copy of Hogwarts a History and settled down in her cot looking distressed at its hard form. She was trying her hardest to ignore the fact that he was anywhere near her and she kept her eyes firmly to the book in her hand, though her eyes seemed glazed over.

He turned his body and reached for his cane that sat at his bedside, and picked it up gracefully. He examined its sleek form as he turned it repeatedly in his large hands. It was made of sweet mahogany that had been roughly sandpapered down to perfection and then painted over in black. It was covered at the bottom with a silver bit, but the top was what concerned him the most. It was capped with a silver serpent that was artfully created by Borgin of Borgin and Burkes himself, and was tailored exactly to suit his needs. Inside its scabbard he usually kept his wand so that he had easy access whenever he so decided to use it; but of course the warden had confiscated it and examined it to the fullest extent. It had been a week before he was given it back.

There was absolutely no reason for him to have it here at all, as it contained no magical properties with his wand impounded. In a truly un-Malfoy manner he wanted it for comfort; insisting that it be placed in his cell, though he did not give the warden a reason why. He scoffed quietly at the thought of any Malfoy needing anything to comfort him or her. The more he thought of it, however, the angrier he became. He felt weak having such a thing in his cell when it neither held purpose nor entertained him in any way. In a moment of rash anger, he threw his cane across the cell and watched as it clattered to the ground. The marks on the far wall indicated that this was not a first occurrence.

Hermione's head looked up sharply at the commotion, only to see Malfoy's eyes looking wild and his cane lying out of reach near the bars that connected them. Hermione got up quietly, paying close attention to where Malfoy sat, and walked the short four feet to the other side of her cell. She placed her book down beside her, reached through the bars and before Lucius could even register what had happened, she had snatched his cane from his own cell and dragged it through the bars into her own. Momentarily shocked at her actions, he said nothing for a short moment before…

"What in Merlin's green Earth do you think you're doing with _my_ cane, you filthy little Mudblood?" he seethed, standing up.

In truth, Hermione_ didn't_know what she was doing with his cane. It seemed as if her feet had moved of their own accord and her hands had snatched it up without her permission to be doing so. However, she thought carefully and used his obvious display of anger to prod him for information.

"Why was there a raid in Hogwarts? I know you know, because I know you. You must have Disguised Death eaters still coming to give you information of your master and his plans. Tell me why I have been put here, for I know you know." She babbled incessantly but she couldn't keep the loud thudding in her chest at bay, nor her sweaty, nervous hands from moving. She was nervous that she had provoked such an angry, evil man, but she would not back down and did the best she could at producing a calm and authoritative demeanor.

"That, mudblood, is none of your business," he scoffed. "Now, give me back my cane before you force me to get the warden."

"You really are a petty old fool aren't you? Calling the warden over here because some silly little girl has your precious cane… Does this even do anything? I remember in the Department of Mysteries, you had your wand in here…" She pulled at the serpents head and uncorked it to reveal nothing at all. "I thought as much. What was it you have; fourteen inches, Rosewood, and dragon heartstring?"

"Elm, actually," he muttered. He could not believe he was fighting with this asinine girl. He surely would not be had he not been in here for over a year now. Dawson had not been so much of a talker, though of that he was pleased. The man rambled to himself of course, but not to him and rambling was not his forte. The cell on the other side of him was blissfully empty, however, that did restrict his list of people he _could _talk to, to that of only the mudblood.

It was true that he was petty, of that he knew, but to be called out on it was embarrassing, especially if it was a mudblood doing the calling out. He could of course just let her keep it until she surely got bored of goading him on with it, or he could actually get the warden who would duly punish her for taking another prisoner's belonging without their permission. Both were temping for different reasons of course. The former would show that he did not care about his cane, and prove that he was not as petty as she thought. As for the latter, that would cause him immediate satisfaction of both the return of his beloved cane, and the pleasure of seeing her punished for her foolhardy actions. He pondered quietly.

"You know I'll give you back your cane if you just tell me why I'm in this bloody place," she said slowly, fondling his cane, trying her hardest to exude confidence. She waited as patiently as she could, resisting the urge to scream her demand in his face.

The truth of the matter was, he did know. He knew exactly how they got into the building, and why they were there. Surprisingly, Pansy Parkinson had been the one to tell him, as she was on more than friendly terms with his son, who was on decent terms with Crabbe Sr., who was certainly in the inner circle of the Dark Lord. Pansy had come to him in the dead of night, when the fewest guards were available to overhear them. She told him of the Dark Lords plans to infiltrate Hogwarts in an attempt at retrieving Hermione Granger, who at the time, did not know she would be in Snape's office at the time of the attack. Their plans were altered due to the fact that Snape had given her a detention in front of the entire class, which contained both Draco and Pansy the day that the attack was to take place. The Deatheater's plans had changed from that of searching the castle stealthily until she was discovered, most likely in the head's dormitory, to that of locating her easily in the dungeons.

Pansy had merely told her of the Deatheater's plan to infiltrate Hogwarts, and retrieve the Mudblood in the attempt at using her as live bait for Potter. She told him that Draco had somehow managed to gain access into Dumbledore's office when he was immediately called to the ministry. This meeting had of course been staged by a Deatheater that had been able to use the Imperius curse on Kingsley Shaklebolt right in the middle of the ministry, without anyone being the wiser. Meanwhile, with Dumbledore gone, Draco quickly cast a disillusionment charm on himself to avoid the watchful glare of the portraits, swiftly entered his office, and retrieved a memory in his prized penseive. He quickly left the school undetected and apparated, albeit illegally as he had not yet received his apparition license.

She was quick to explain that she did not know what the memory contained, but only that it would give them a chance at entering Hogwarts undetected by means of the restricted section in the school library, which by 8 pm, was closed. Their plan had unfolded easier than they had previously thought possible, and it was only a matter of time before they entered and executed their plan. Pansy had left quickly, unable to say anymore, as she did not know any more to begin with.

Lucius had been able to discern what had happened when they did enter Hogwarts, as he had been listening very carefully to what scar-head and company had said, as he pretended to be asleep beneath his sheet. He had quickly ignored the thought in his head of her bravery towards those of an obviously better skill that herself and instead focused on how brash and unprofessional Bellatrix could be in the field. She was no doubt great with her wand, but her many years in Azkaban had deluded her ability to control herself when overexcited. He pondered the witch in front of him, glancing repeatedly at his cane in her hands.

"I do not think so, mudblood. Your Gryffindor bravery has failed you yet again, and I believe that I have something of more value to you than you have to me. By all means, keep that silly stick, as it serves me no purpose here. A note to you as well mudblood, do not reveal to thy enemy what you want the most, and he or she will surely use it against you, as I unquestionably will." He felt a pang when he easily dismissed his beautiful cane and turned his back on her.

She was left with her mouth hanging open, quite taken aback that he had not just told her. Granted, she did not really think through her plan at retrieving knowledge she wanted from him. However, she had gained some small bit of information from his pale, pointed face when she had asked him if he knew how the Deatheaters had gotten into Hogwarts in the first place. The look in his cold grey eyes had betrayed him for only a moment, but that was the moment she knew that he really did have the information she craved. She was determined to find out by other means, if this plan had not worked. _He may have won the battl__e, but he would not win the war_, she vowed.

She sputtered a bit, thinking of anything that she could say that would provoke him into just giving her the information she wanted, but she came out empty. She grumbled angrily, grabbing her book and cane, and carrying both back to her small cot. She leaned his cane against the wall by her bedside, laid down, opened her book, and began to read. She would not let him get to her. She would merely have to wait a little longer for the information that she wanted to present itself.

Lucius watched her open her book and begin to read, taking his beloved cane away from him and placing it within her grubby reach. His lip curled in distaste as he thought about her filthy paws on his handmade, personal possession. When he finally got out of here, he would be sure to cast so many cleansing charms on it that it would be cleaner than it was when it was made. He thought about how angry she looked when he refused her foolish ploy to get information out of him. He thought it amusing how she could wear her emotions on her sleeve and be so stubborn. No matter, he would get his cane back; all he had to do was wait for her to make a mistake or he would merely have to come with some kind of alternative plan. He would get that stupid little mudblood at her own game.

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